


A Sorting of Sorts

by NewSoul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Gryffindor John, I needed to write my headcannon, One Shot, Potterlock, Ravenclaw Sherlock, Sorting Ceremony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2373422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewSoul/pseuds/NewSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is curious about the only member of his year that he himself cannot sort. Bonus: Sherlock gets sassy with the Sorting Hat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sorting of Sorts

Sherlock Holmes strode towards the ancient stool absentmindedly. He’d already deduced exactly which house he’d be sortied into, not to mention everyone else in his year. Well, all but one, but he wasn’t dwelling on the small blonde boy right now, he’d know where he’d end up soon enough.

Sherlock plopped lazily onto the stool and dropped the ragtag hat onto his head, his riotous dark curls preventing it from covering his eyes.

“Oh hell, just what this school needs… another Holmes brother.” Cursed the sorting hat in Sherlock’s mind, “no doubt you should be put in Slytheri-“

“Wrong!” sighed the pale boy, really did the hat have to be this droll, “I’ve no intentions of setting foot anywhere near my brother’s house.”

“Well!” replied the shabby hat, shocked that any first year would dare question his judgment, Mycroft was nowhere near this rude, even if he was a bit obnoxious, “Alright then, how about Gryff-“

“Boring!” ejaculated Sherlock again, honestly it’s a wonder anyone gets sorted correctly. “I have no use for chivalry nor witless courage.”

“How about Huff-“

“Honestly are you really daft enough to believe that I belong with those drooling blank eyed idiots?” rebuked Sherlock again, “You just sorted that dunce Anderson into there and he can’t tell the difference between polyjuice potion and simple transfiguration.”

“Well fine then! Better be-“ the sorting hat was interrupted again by Sherlock ripping the damnable thing off his head and tossing it unceremoniously back onto the stool.

“Ravenclaw obviously,” spoke Sherlock, as if it was the most apparent thing in the world.

“Mr. Holmes, your house!” Shouted professor McGonagall. “You must wait until you are sorted into your house!”

“I’m in Ravenclaw Professor,” remunerated Sherlock, “the hat was just about to say so but I grew tired of its ignorance.” At Sherlock’s announcement the entire hall went eerily silent. No one took the hat off before it sorted them, and no one ever announced their sorting themselves. 

Minerva McGonagall was taken aback. Never in her time as a Hogwarts professor had she encountered such blatant insolence. “Very well Mr. Holmes, please join the other Ravenclaws at your house table.”  

 Sherlock heard the whispers as he walked to his table.

“Isn’t that your brother Mycroft?” taunted whichever Malfoy boy was at Hogwarts at this point. Sherlock heard his elder brother sigh in response.

“Blimey, he fought the sorting hat and he won!” whispered the astonished blond boy in Sherlock’s year, the same one he’d failed to sort himself. Sherlock regarded the boy with renewed curiosity as he sat down at the end of the Ravenclaw table.

“Hooper, Molly!” shouted professor McGonagall, attempting to move the proceedings along past the surprise blip. Molly was then promptly sorted into Hufflepuff, just as he’d predicted, though he believed that she could have been easily sorted into Ravenclaw with himself.

“Lestrade, Gregory.”

“Gryffindor!” oh the hat took a second or two on that one, Sherlock had sized Lestrade up in less time than that.

“Moiarity, Jim.”

“Slytherin!” cried the hat before the boy had the chance to properly sit down. This didn’t surprise Sherlock in the least. You could feel the Slytherin radiate off the boy as he slithered by like the snake that represented his house…

 _No,_  thought Sherlock, _not a snake… a spider._

“Watson, John!” shouted McGonagall, for what apparently wasn’t the first time. “Come along dear we haven’t got all day.” The small boy began to slowly walk forward, he looked somewhere between incredibly excited and totally terrified and he was walking with a waddling gait that somehow suggested utter confidence. All of this new information provided by John’s walk and his emotional state, however, still did not allow Sherlock any leeway in sorting John himself, he could still easily be placed into any of the houses from what Sherlock could deduce. It was bloody frustrating!

John Watson sat down in the chair and dropped the hat over his head. The poor boy was so small the front brim of the hat dropped to rest on the edge of his nose. Though Sherlock could not hear what was happening, it appeared that John and the hat were having an exchange similar to his, though John appeared infinitely more polite than the Ravenclaw had been. After a few moments the hat appeared to nod and then proudly announced “Gryffindor!” 

**Author's Note:**

> Recs and constructive criticism are always welcome! I really enjoyed writing my own headcannon about which houses these boys would get sorted into! Maybe I'll add some more chapters to this later, but maybe I won't, who knows. Until then though, you can find me on my Tumblr at http://ladytardis221b.tumblr.com/!


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